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End of year finals were just a weekend away, and the boys of the Nishiura baseball team were far from prepared. The team had scrabbled for notes in their various classes, none even close to being ready for the last exam of their sophomore year. Baseball had sucked away most of their study time. And although their coach maintained a code of “pass if you want to play,” there was a significant difference between a good grade and actually knowing the material.
With an entire semester of information to relearn, Tajima and Hanai found themselves in Hanai’s room late into a Saturday night. Textbooks and review sheets lay around them, strewn out across a patterned bedsheet.
Tajima chewed on the end of a pen, skimming across the words of an english packet. As he flipped to the next page, he couldn’t recall a single word he had just read. He groaned in frustration, his pen falling from his mouth and onto his lap. He fell backwards onto Hanai’s bed and glared at the ceiling. Used to his behavior, Hanai looked up from his textbook with a raised brow.
“Giving up already?” he asked, cracking a grin.
Tajima moaned in response, rolling to his side. “It’s been like, a century since we started.” Hanai rolled his eyes. “Okay, more like four hours, but what’s the difference, honestly?”
The other boy pursed his lips at Tajima's complaints, but glanced towards the clock. With a bit of shock, Hanai realized that Tajima was right. It was just a few minutes past midnight. They probably deserved a break, but the two of them still had a lot of work left to cover. He tossed his pen at the other boy. “The difference will be your grade, Yuu. C’mon, get up.”
Tajima did not budge, replying with a low whine instead. “‘m tired, Azusa,” he said when Hanai threw a paper ball at him.
“I don’t care, get up.”
“No,”
“Yuu.”
“make me.”
Hanai groaned. Tajima was insufferably stubborn at times. He set his book to the side and leaned forward, clasping Tajima’s shoulder and pulling him over so he lay on his back. The boy just shrugged. With a hint of irritation, Hanai tried again. He grabbed his arm and pulled; not yanking it, but with enough strength to lift the other off the bed before he plopped back down like a ragdoll. “Ugh, you’re impossible.”
“Yeah,” Tajima agreed with a grin, “and you give up too easy.”
Hanai frowned. “Is that a challenge?”
Tajima’s smile said it all. Hanai moved over the other boy so their legs crossed each other’s. He grabbed onto Tajima’s waist and pulled him upwards, a grin of his own matching the growing smirk on the other boy’s face. Tajima played deadweight, his head lolling backwards as Hanai held him up. God, he was heavy when he wanted to be. All of Tajima’s muscle that built up after years of training weighed him down, making it difficult for Hanai to hold him. His hands snaked around Tajima's back in attempt to keep him upright, but the smaller slipped from his grasp anyways. He looked up at Hanai smugly.
Hanai tried again, this time latching onto Tajima’s forearms, expecting the same results. What he didn’t expect was Tajima to grab onto his arms and pull him down with him, their noses close to touching. But, when Tajima closed the inch-wide gap between their lips, Hanai couldn’t really say he was surprised.
As Tajima kissed him, closed-lipped and hard, he could only think of how typical it was of the other to want to fool around, rather than study (and to trick Hanai into doing the same!). But the boy didn’t mind, at least not this time, and his body sagged into Tajima’s as he found himself kissing back.
Tajima pulled away, looking up at Hanai with bright eyes. “You’re blushing,” he said, laughing when Hanai’s face grew even redder at the acknowledgement.
“Shut up,” Hanai mumbled, starting to move back. Tajima laced his fingers behind his neck, keeping him in place.
“Sorry. It’s cute,” he replied, kissing the other again. He was slower this time. His hands traveled down, trailing his nails across the fabric of Hanai’s shirt. Hanai’s fingers went to cup Tajima’s cheek, and then trace his jawline, moving up until he held the other boy’s chin. He pushed Tajima away, just slightly.
“Don’t we have something to be doing right now?” he asked, glancing over to their discarded textbooks. Tajima grunted, trying to kiss Hanai again. When Hanai tipped his head back, he huffed.
“You really want to?”
Before he could blink, Hanai was on his back, straddled by a very determined clean-up batter. Hanai looked up owlishly at the other and gulped. Suddenly, he was quite aware of Tajima’s body atop of his, legs hugging his hips, holding him down. A new blush spread across his cheeks. “Um,” he whispered, his voice cracking. Tajima smirked.
“That’s what I thought.”
Their lips crashed together again. Tajima was a rough kisser; sloppy too. He trailed wet kisses across Hanai’s jaw bone and down his neck, making the boy’s breath hitch in his throat. He was sensitive on his neck, they both knew it. Tajima snickered against Hanai’s collarbone. “You’re so cute, Azusa.”
Hanai felt himself go red (again). He squirmed, wiggling away from Tajima and hiding his face in his hands. “What the hell, Yuu. I’m not cute,” he snapped, trying to sound harsh but only succeeding in looking like a child. Tajima laughed and pulled his hands from his face, holding them in his own.
“You are to me,” he replied, placing a kiss on Hanai’s nose. “Cutest boyfriend, like, ever.”
Hanai grumbled. “I’m your only boyfriend, ever.”
Tajima laughed and kissed him again. He brought their hands to his lips, and kissed Hanai's palms, and then his fingers, and then his wrists. His eyes did not stray from the other boy’s. When he moved to give the same treatment to Hanai’s left hand, he found himself against his lips, instead.
Hanai’s hands clutched Tajima’s shoulders, holding him there as he kissed him, hard. His hands roamed across Tajima’s back, down his arms, up his stomach, against his legs. Tajima responded with equal enthusiasm. He giggled when Hanai traced ticklish spots, and his breath jumped when he kissed sensitive patches of skin. His nail’s left scratch marks down Hanai’s back and up his arms, and they burned too good to hurt. He let Tajima slip off his shirt and bite down his chest, the smaller of the two grinning wickedly at the way Hanai’s back arched as he nipped at his stomach.
Hanai looked up at the clock at one point, not dwelling too much on the fact that it read a quarter to two. His hands slid down Tajima’s shirt, and then under. He teased the waistband of his boxers and snapped them against his skin--
Hanai was pushed away. Before he could say anything, ask anything, Tajima yawned. It was loud, over-dramatic, and obviously fake. A sinking dread settled in Hanai's stomach as he realized he had fallen into yet another one of Tajima’s traps.
“No,”
Tajima blinked blearily at Hanai, his lips smacking together. “Gee, babe, I sure am tired,” he said with another yawn. Hanai grimaced.
“You suck.”
“So do you,” Tajima said as he rolled over on his side, pushing Hanai off of him all together. He leaned up and switched off the lamp. “Don’t make me study for four hours straight, like, ever again.”
Hanai snorted, pushing the rest of the papers and books off of his bed before rolling next to Tajima. “Yeah, yeah, I promise.”
“Good.” Hanai felt a kiss on his cheek. “‘night, Azusa.”
Even if he couldn’t see it, Hanai smiled. “Goodnight, Yuu.”
And as they fell drifted off to sleep, Hanai couldn’t help but think of his science exam the following Monday. Even if he failed; a prospect that seemed more and more likely every second that ticked by.... after tonight, he didn't think he'd mind.